Seteal leaned against a log with her knees tucked up beneath her chin. It’d become dark very quickly and she found herself appreciating the large fire burning between herself and the others. Over the top of the cracking flames, Far-a-mael’s eyes shifted restlessly as he studied the surface of a map he’d procured from his bag. The old man’s face displayed its share of wrinkles. Had Seteal not been any wiser, she’d have estimated his age at somewhere in his late sixties. She sat in awe of his true age and couldn’t help but wonder just how long these people lived.
The stars were invisible, dense clouds having rolled in to fill the sky. Seteal glanced over her shoulder at the tent she was expected to share with El-i-miir. She’d always been one for personal space and wasn’t sure how she felt about the arrangement, but was almost certain she had no choice in the matter.
‘Throw the bones in when you’re done,’ Far-a-mael’s voice cut through and violated the soothing sounds of the fire. Seteal looked up to find him staring at her. ‘The last thing we need to do is attract any of the less than desirable night creatures you outlanders keep in these parts.’
Without a word of recognition, Seteal kicked the rabbit bones at her feet into the fire. It was still a mystery to her as to how the Elglair gil had managed to find rabbits to cook in such weather. He’d simply wandered off into the shrubbery and later returned with two of the animals.
‘You should go to sleep early,’ Far-a-mael muttered as he gathered himself together and headed for his tent. ‘You’ll thank yourselves in the morning.’
Moments later, El-i-miir made her way over to Seteal’s side and sat down. She remained quiet for some time, warming her hands over the flames before removing a dark bottle from her fur coat and taking a few deep swallows. ‘Want some?’ She asked with a mischievous grin.
‘What is it?’ Seteal replied, eyeing the bottle uneasily.
‘Whisky.’ The woman chuckled.
‘Where’d you get it?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I guess not.’ Seteal shrugged, reaching out to take the bottle. ‘I’ve never had this before.’
‘Then take it slowly.’ El-i-miir winked.
Seteal took a sip of the liquid and wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘It’s gross.’ She handed the bottle back.
El-i-miir nodded. ‘I know.’
‘Then why do you drink it?’ Seteal asked.
‘It feels good.’ El-i-miir shrugged. ‘Makes you happy.’
‘Aren’t you happy?’
El-i-miir spurted some of the liquid out of her mouth and engaged in a coughing fit. ‘I’m stuck with him.’ She nodded toward Far-a-mael’s tent. ‘How could I possibly be happy?’
‘Then why are you here?’ Seteal probed.
‘To take you to the Frozen Lands,’ El-i-miir said as though it should have been obvious.
‘No,’ Seteal replied. ‘That’s why Far-a-mael is here. I’m asking why you’re here.’
‘I’m his rei.’ El-i-miir’s tone was one of astonishment. ‘You know that.’
‘For Maker’s sake!’ Seteal found herself losing patience. ‘Why are you his rei? Why choose to do something you don’t want to do?’
‘Choose?’ El-i-miir narrowed her eyes, her silky black hair tumbling over her shoulder. ‘Who said anything about choice?’
‘But you must be my age at least,’ Seteal stated, refusing to make herself obnoxious enough to ask.
‘Older, actually.’ El-i-miir frowned. ‘I’m twenty-one.’
‘Well?’ Seteal pushed. ‘You’re a grown woman. Why not do as you please?’
El-i-miir let out a sharp laugh before cutting herself short and shushing Seteal, even though it’d been she who made the noise. ‘We have to be quiet, remember?’ She pointed at Far-a-mael’s tent. ‘What were we talking about again?’ She hiccupped.
‘Why can’t you do as you please?’
‘Oh, that’s right,’ El-i-miir slapped her knee none-too-gracefully. ‘I don’t know. That’s just the way it is. Elglair are not considered mature enough to make any major decisions until we’re at least thirty.’
‘Thirty?’ Seteal recoiled.
‘Certainly.’ El-i-miir’s expression became dire. ‘That’s why your mother could never return to the Frozen Lands.’
‘She didn’t want to become a gil?’
‘No,’ El-i-miir replied. ‘She disobeyed her parents. She could have been sent to Vish’el’Tei. That’s why she ran away.’
‘Vish’el’Tei?’
‘North.’ El-i-miir’s eyes filled with fear. ‘North of the Frozen Lands, where the cold is such that nothing survives.’
‘But if nothing survives . . .’ Seteal trailed off at the realisation that the Elglair, under certain conditions, might be willing to sentence their own children to death. ‘You mean they’d have killed her?’
‘Well . . . no.’ El-i-miir sighed. ‘I mean . . . maybe. I doubt it. But she couldn’t have stayed. Not if she wanted to marry your father. The only choice she had was either to run away, dishonouring herself and her family, or to marry him before willingly travelling to Vish’el’Tei to face an honourable death.’
‘In Maker’s name,’ Seteal whispered, realising for the first time just how much her mother had sacrificed to be with Gifn and later fall pregnant. ‘It all sounds rather horrible.’
‘Not to us.’ El-i-miir raised her bottle defensively. ‘That’s the Elglair way.’
‘And what about you?’ Seteal asked, no longer wishing to dwell on her mother or the fate that eventually befell her. ‘Would your parents send you away to die?’
‘It’s not as simple as you make it out to be,’ El-i-miir grumbled irritably. ‘My parents probably wouldn’t cause me trouble like that, but I could never hurt them by showing such disrespect as to go against their wishes.’
‘Well . . .’ Seteal shrugged. ‘What did you want to do?’
‘I wanted to study as a jilt’lesit,’ El-i-miir sighed longingly, before realising that Seteal had no idea what that was. ‘It’s what you’d probably call a doctor, but different. Jil’lesits utilise a combination of medicine and the Ways to help in healing people.’
‘Well, I think you should follow your heart.’ Seteal shrugged. ‘Life is too short for so many rules.’
‘Maybe for your people,’ El-i-miir replied curtly. ‘We Elglair must live a long time with the consequences of our actions. Anyway, I’m going to bed. Far-a-mael is right--tomorrow will be as long and exhausting as today. And if he meant what he said about starting your lessons, I’d advise you to do the same.’
Seteal watched as the Elglair woman stumbled over to their shared tent where she fumbled with the flap before entering. It didn’t take long before the oppressive darkness and the deep silence of night drove Seteal to follow. Fearing El-i-miir was already asleep and not wishing to disturb her, Seteal slipped silently into the tent and carefully arranged the blanket over herself.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander, drifting about pleasant memories of home. She saw her father’s face, but it became creased with fear and concern. She tried to remember her bedroom, but could only recall the strangers forcing their way into her home. Seteal pushed the thoughts aside. She’d never sleep if she continued to dwell on such things. She rolled onto her side, but a scratching sound caught her attention. After a moment, Seteal dismissed it as having been the blanket sliding up against the canvas.
Silence prevailed and Seteal’s mind was able to rest. It took until she was dancing on the edge of sleep before the sound was repeated. Heart racing and eyes wide open, Seteal sat upright clinging to her blanket. She held her breath, listening intently to the once more piercing silence. When the sound was yet again repeated, Seteal recognised it as that of canvas tearing.
‘Wake up,’ she whispered, urgently turning to shake El-i-miir.
‘What?’ El-i-miir grumbled. ‘I’m sleeping.’
‘Light the lantern!’
‘Why?’
‘Jus
t do it,’ Seteal urged. ‘I think the tent has been torn.’
‘Just a minute,’ El-i-miir replied, without masking the irritation in her voice. A moment later the tent was flooded with light as the woman lifted a lantern before her. ‘Torrid,’ she murmured.
‘See.’ Seteal fixed her gaze on a small tear near their feet. ‘I was right.’
‘What might’ve caused that?’ El-i-miir wondered aloud.
In answer to her question, a small feathery head with two bright golden eyes popped through the gap.
‘Seeol,’ the women gasped simultaneously as they retreated to the back of the tent.
‘Shee,’ the elf owl replied in its gravelly voice. ‘See . . . Seeol.’
Seteal’s jaw dropped, but she refused to believe her ears. Surely it’d been her mind playing tricks. ‘How should we get it out?’ she asked El-i-miir, but the woman remained transfixed on the bird, her skin covered in goose bumps.
‘I’ve truly never seen anything like it.’ Her voice wavered. ‘No aura. Nothing! There’s nothing but a void in the Ways. Everything just falls away from this bird. It cannot exist, but it does. It truly is seeol.’ El-i-miir continued to stare at the owl and not for the first time Seteal wondered just what those white pupils could see.
‘Seeol,’ the owl repeated, cocking its head sideways.
‘Okay,’ Seteal murmured. ‘This time I know I heard it.’
‘You did,’ El-i-miir confirmed flatly. ‘Can you say any other words?’ she addressed the elf owl after a moment’s hesitation.
‘Don’t talk to it,’ Seteal gasped. ‘It can’t understand you. I’ve heard of this before. Some birds can be trained to mimic speech.’
‘Does that include owls?’ El-i-miir raised a sceptical eyebrow.
‘I suppose so,’ Seteal insisted. ‘But, El-i-miir, who could have trained it?’
‘El-ish,’ the seeol stumbled over the foreign name. ‘El-i-mish,’ it croaked, taking a step forward to stare penetratingly.
‘Was that mimicry, too?’ El-i-miir asked dubiously. ‘I don’t think birds are able to learn quite that fast.’ The woman turned back to address the animal. ‘I’m El-i-miir.’ She held a hand to her chest. ‘Seteal.’ She gestured to her right.
‘You’re crazy,’ Seteal hissed, but was interrupted when the elf owl spoke again.
‘El-i-miish,’ the bird rasped. Standing on one foot, it lifted the other, unfurled a clawed toe and pointed at El-i-miir. ‘Seteal.’ The bird repeated the process in her direction. It lowered its foot and stood squarely on the floor, nuzzled its beak into its chest and uttered, ‘Seeol.’
‘It thinks its name is Seeol?’ El-i-miir cringed.
‘Well, it makes sense, really,’ Seteal said. ‘We’ve been calling him that.’
‘How do you know it’s male?’
‘Not all things need to be learnt through the Elglair eye,’ Seteal said smugly. ‘It’s the colouration on his wings and the golden eyes. The females have yellow ones.’
‘So it’s not a complete abomination,’ El-i-miir mused. ‘These birds actually exist?’
‘They’re all around Elmsville,’ Seteal said, having remembered occasionally seeing them hiding in cacti. ‘They’re desert birds. But I must confess to never having heard one talk before.’
‘We mustn’t be complacent.’ El-i-miir became very serious. ‘Just because it talks and seems harmless right now doesn’t mean we should forget what it did yesterday.’
‘Well,’ Seteal began, ‘what if he doesn’t know that what he did was wrong? He’s just a little bird after all. If we could teach him more, he might understand that it’s not all right to attack people.’
‘I think that’s a little naïve of you, Seteal,’ El-i-miir replied apologetically.
‘Maybe you’re right.’ Seteal looked away. ‘But we have to try something, don’t we?’
‘What do you mean?’ El-i-miir replied.
‘We can’t just let him go,’ Seteal continued. ‘If we do, he’ll only hunt down others.’
‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a go,’ El-i-miir contemplated. ‘But Gil’rei Far-a-mael mustn’t find out.’
‘Why?’
‘I assure you he’ll have quite a different solution in dealing with a problem animal,’ El-i-miir warned. ‘He’ll find a way to kill it.’
‘We mustn’t let him do that,’ Seteal gasped, her eyes locked on Seeol’s fragile body. ‘He’s adorable.’ She reached out tentatively and patted the bird’s head. ‘But how will we get away with it? Surely it’s only a matter of time before Far-a-mael senses Seeol’s presence.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep calling it that.’ El-i-miir scrunched up her nose at the sound of the bird’s name.
‘Seeol.’ The elf owl once again gestured toward himself.
El-i-miir shuddered and turned back to Seteal. ‘Don’t worry about Far-a-mael. There is a certain ability shared by very few Elglair known as affiliation. Far-a-mael is among those few, but so am I.’ El-i-miir half-smiled. ‘I just so happen to be much better at it.’
‘What does it mean?’
‘I’m able to affiliate people’s minds,’ the woman said with obvious pride. ‘I can control, or even possess them. That’s why my horse rides without physical guidance. That’s what I did to your father when we entered your home. He wouldn’t let us in, so Far-a-mael asked me to affiliate and move him out of the way.’
‘Yes,’ Seteal grumbled, still dissatisfied with the excuses she’d been given for her abduction. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, affiliation needn’t always be so blatant.’ El-i-miir clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘We can influence people more subtly than that.’
‘You’re not going risk it on Far-a-mael are you?’ Seteal asked in surprise. Having heard El-i-miir preach all about obedience earlier that night, it seemed a little hard to understand why she’d suddenly choose to ignore her own advice.
‘Just a little,’ El-i-miir replied. ‘I’ll put a block on his thoughts whenever they might wander toward the seeol. He’ll probably feel like he’s forgotten something, but he won’t be able to work out what.’
‘All right let’s do it,’ Seteal shuffled forward excitedly, forgetting the fear she’d once had for the adorable bit of fluff staring up at her. ‘If you’re so confident in your abilities that you’re willing to take the risk, then so am I.’ She leaned toward Seeol. ‘I’m Seteal, you’re Seeol,’ she said to the animal.
‘I’m Seteal, you’re Seeol,’ the bird replied, pointing first at Seteal and then to himself.
‘No, no.’ Seteal shook her finger then placed both hands to her chest. ‘I’m Seteal.’ She paused for a moment and then pointed at Seeol. ‘I’m Seeol.’
‘I’m Seeol,’ the bird replied. ‘You’re Seteal.’ He bobbed his head excitedly.
‘Fast learner.’ El-i-miir swallowed nervously.
The Inner Circle: The Knowing Page 10